


ride in on your high horse

by TTMIYH



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Which character has which genitalia is intentionally ambiguous :3, facesitting, sex while high
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTMIYH/pseuds/TTMIYH
Summary: "Oh, um. Hello, Latula. Am I interrupting anything?"Latula laughed, a warm little laugh, the kind she always made, just at varying levels of volume and littleness. This time, it was above minute, but below moderate. An average level of laugh, Horuss surmised to himself, as she squatted down, elbows on her knees, and poked Horuss in the forehead. "I mean, I was about to ask you the same thing, dude. You've been sitting on our porch for, like, twenty minutes?""Have I?" Horuss replied, feeling the intense desire to shrink down into a little ball and immediately cease existing upon this plane of reality.





	ride in on your high horse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oncewewerezombies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/gifts).



> "Sometimes your friends need cheering up! Mainly because they made the mistake of hooking up with a cheating bastard pretty boy. And sometimes the best way to do that cheering up is to smoke a bowl, play some vidya games and get down and dirty to help them forget all about that loser."

Horuss sat in front of the house of the two people he knew he'd need help from the most after such a horrifying, inarticulate day, the kind of day that just sort of wrenched your soul out of its socket like popping out a particularly stubborn bolt from its place in your latest engineering project. Most of his friends could've been helpful (except, you know,  _them_ ), but he knew that Mituna and Latula, above everyone else, would just probably be able to get him relaxed, and he needed relaxation right now like he needed the opposite of a hole in his head. That was to say, badly.

He looked over his phone again, another couple of times, and then once more. A picture from Damara he couldn't help but go back and stare at in abject terror. False soothing words from the no-good cheater he had invested so much of himself in for all this time. Part of him wanted to beg him back, knowing that he'd take him back with a moment's notice - but Horuss had his dignity to think about, and so he struggled, failing to make a choice either way.

At least, until the front door opened behind him, causing him to flop onto the floor. He blinked a couple of times, staring upwards at Latula Pyrope, and when he realized he was staring up her sweater-dress, he let out a strangled sort of noise and covered his face in embarrassment. "Oh, um. Hello, Latula. Am I interrupting anything?"

Latula laughed, a warm little laugh, the kind she always made, just at varying levels of volume and littleness. This time, it was above minute, but below moderate. An average level of laugh, Horuss surmised to himself, as she squatted down, elbows on her knees, and poked Horuss in the forehead. "I mean, I was about to ask you the same thing, dude. You've been sitting on our porch for, like, twenty minutes?"

"Have I?" Horuss replied, feeling the intense desire to shrink down into a little ball and immediately cease existing upon this plane of reality. The fact that he had spent nearly half an hour sitting on the porch of two of his good friends had completely slipped him by, so engrossed was he in his own head. In the background, he heard ostentatious yells indicative of someone losing a video game, badly, and he was struck, ever so slightly struck, by the scent of weed emerging from the warm air. He needed to invent a device that would let him jump into another universe and then hide immediately there forever.

"Uh, yeah?" Latula responded with another one of her warm little laughs, reaching down to grab Horuss's hand. She pulled with a somewhat surprising amount of strength, hoisting Horuss back up onto his feet, extending her legs up so that they were both standing now, facing one another. She pulled him a little further in, and Horuss felt foolish for feeling so bad about having someone other than  _him_ holding his hand, even though that was... Over and done with. She tugged, and then simply kicked the front door shut, not even bothering to lock it. "What's up, bro?"

"Rufioh cheated on me." Horuss blurted out, before his brain had the opportunity to stop him from doing something stupid and slash or potentially harmful to the friend circle at large. "Wwwith Damara."

Latula frowned. "Oh, jeez. That's, uh." She stumbled a bit for her words while she led Horuss further into her and Mituna's little messy abode, her hand the leash that he was clinging so heavily onto, until he realized that he was practically squeezing the blood out of her hand and loosened up. "That's a lot. With Damara?"

"With Damara." Horuss confirmed, making his way, with her guidance, into the living room. "Um, good tidings, Mituna."

"Why the long face, horse boy?" Mituna asked, gleefully showing off his row of slightly misaligned pearly whites, blue and red rubberbanded braces adorning said teeth in a long-lived effort to finally pull some sense into them. It would've been more effective if Mituna didn't end up snapping the wire each time, leading to the most recent addition to his mouth: the really thick wire. Bite through that, his orthodontist probably thought.

"Rufioh cheated on him." Latula explained, kicking herself over the couch's arm and rolling over into Mituna's lap. "With Damara."

"With Damara?" Mituna asked, both incredulous and yet, somehow completely unsurprised.

"With Damara." Horuss confirmed yet again, sitting down politely crosslegged in front of them, right on the carpet. He stared. It was his usual course of action when he wasn't sure what to do - he stared at his phone minutes ago, now he was staring at the two people who weren't quite staring but were definitely looking back at him. Mituna was short and compact and almost adorable were it not for the everything else about him, while Latula was tall, almost lanky if not for the way she filled out her clothes, but 'lanky' was generally an accurate descriptor of her.

"Well, it's not like we needed another reason to hate her guts!" Mituna spoke after a minute of awkward silence, breaking into hysterical, room-filling snorts and laughs. Shuffling over, he patted the space between him and his girlfriend almost expectantly, as if he wanted Horuss to get up and sit there.

"Why, did she do something wrong in the past that I'm as of yet unaware of?" Horuss asked, not moving an inch.

"Yeah, she tried to fuck my girlfriend! Hahahahaha-" Mituna answered with a jittering, sputtering laugh. "Come on, sit on the couch, nerd!"

Well, when you put it like that, who was he to say no to their generous offer? Horuss got up, ambled over, and plopped himself right down unceremoniously. "And then when that didn't work she, like, tried to fuck Mituna!" Latula exclaimed, sounding a little more angry about it than her boyfriend did (since Mituna generally sounded like he was either having a great time, or about to die, with no in-betweens, leaving Latula to pick up the shades in between). "Not that we would've said no if she had, like, asked, but she  _totally_ tried to do it behind our backs."

"Total fucking homewrecker! What a cunt, hahaha!" Mituna snapped, bouncing between furiosity and ecstatic titters in one swift motion, rolling back and forth on the couch, rocking back and forth until he steadied himself. "I bet she gets off on tearing shit up like that, the whore!"

"Mituna!" Latula chastised with a healthy mixture of actual serious sternness and playful familiarity. "C'mon, we're above being slut-shamey like that, dude."

Horuss was honestly more bewildered than anything about the whole exchange. Words were being passed over his head like tennis balls.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry." Mituna apologized, immediately curling into a ball, and then taking a deep breath and uncurling. "Anyway,  _fuck_ Damara. And  _fuck_ Rufioh for falling for that bee-ess."

"But not, like, literally." Latula chimed in. "She's already lost all of our trust, and then dicking around with horsebro like that? Uncool. Absolutely uncool."

"The least cool."

"The least swood!"

"Absolutely the least swood!"

Horuss had no idea what they were talking about, but he took a small measure of solace in the fact that apparently this behavior was an already-established pattern with the girl that his boyfriend cheated on him with. "So..."

"So basically, neither of us are surprised. And we're totally here for you if you need to, like, get out of your place for a little bit." Latula said, patting Horuss's knee. This, for some reason, came as a great relief.

"As in, you're allowing me to stay at your domicile until I feel ready to return to my own?"

"Talk like a normal human, dweeboid." Mituna snipped, and Latula shushed him almost before the sentence was finished.

"Don't be rude, Mituna. Anyway, yeah, the couch folds out into a futon so you can totally stay here for a while if you want." Latula offered, her hands folded politely in her lap, unhidden by her typical beglove'd attire. Instead of a sweater and then a shirt on top of that, all she had on was a black tank top, and Mituna was in a similar state of semi-lacking dress - tank top, sweatpants, teal socks.

"And if you need to forget about your troubles we'll totally fuck them out of you!" Mituna nearly shouted at the top of his lungs. If his intent was to embarrass the living daylights out of Horuss, he succeeded.

"Um." Horuss interrupted himself in his attempt to come up with a coherent response, weighing the options under consideration. He was, officially, broken up with Rufioh - he had made the declaration over text after about an hour of hand-wringing, and he didn't want anything to do with his ex or his ex's mistress, for lack of better term, sexually or otherwise. Mituna and Latula were fairly attractive, even if they weren't options he had really even put under consideration before. It was an open secret amongst the friend group, their predilection towards menage a trois, but Horuss never expected being on the receiving ends of one of their propositions.

He looked over to Latula, and she looked back at him, teal eyes behind red shades examining him like he was doubtlessly examining her. She put her hand out, in an uncharacteristically timid display, letting it rest on Horuss's knee. Fishing for a reaction - would he jerk away? Shout no? Even politely ask to be left alone? She removed her hand as quickly as the idea to put it there arrived, probably not wanting to try and make him feel forced into a choice.

"I'm... Intrigued and curious. I am not sure how I feel in the moment - I am currently stuck in the center of an excessively STRONG morass of emotions that I need to work through, that's my mane concern - but I'm not opposed to the offer on its own terms." Horuss rambled, feeling sweat beginning to enslicken his brow. He reached out gingerly for Latula's hand again, letting his own rest on top of hers, and they moved in unison like they were guiding the planchette of a ouija board, bringing her palm back to his knee. She gave him a warm, comforting smile, the kind of smile you gave to someone when you knew you were going to be trying everything to make them feel better.

"Sure. Wanna get high?" Mituna offered, from the other side of Horuss's face.

"Uh.", came the now familiar reaction of interrupted thoughts. "I don't, erm."

"You don't "regularly partake", is that what you're about to say?" Mituna asked, almost sneering, although Horuss knew he had better intentions than to sneer. Mituna got up, stretched, popping his shoulders a little in the process, cracked his knuckles, and disappeared into the bedroom.

"How did he know that?" Horuss quietly asked Latula. She shrugged and made a noncommittal noise.

Mituna returned a couple of minutes later with a baggie of some green substance, a metal cylinder, and a bong (at least that much he had recognized). Horuss stared at them until he realized he was looking at weed, a grinder, and a bong. "Do you  _know_ how to smoke?"

"I try to avoid polluting my body and mind with psychoactive substances at all times," Horuss replied, staring at the intimidating glass piece as if it would suddenly reveal the secrets of the universe to him.

"Yeah, but Damara just fucked your ex-boyfriend, so..." Mituna replied, trailing off with a sing-song voice as he handed what appeared to be a small cigarette to Horuss. "It's a one-hitter. Take one hit, and then you're done. Just... Fuckin' inhale it."

Horuss picked up the paraphernalia and stared at it from every angle, expecting secrets here, too, in this tiny place. Then, he shrugged and took a couple of seconds to get over himself. "I do suppose it would help get my mind off things."

"'Atta horseboy." Mituna replied, while Latula shifted herself from holding onto Horuss's knee to gently, testingly putting an arm around his broad shoulders, hugging herself over to him. This felt... Nice. Latula was warm and limber in a way that Rufioh was not, and Mituna's jabbing, while, indeed, rude, was enough of a shock to Horuss's system that he felt himself slowly snapping out of the funk he had cursed his own mind with. Mituna's lighter, a small plastic piece likely purchased at a gas station, hit the end of the one-hitter, Horuss inhaled, and, keeping it in his mouth (he had seen Rufioh smoke enough to have a vague sense of what to do), he felt the burn travel down into him.

When he exhaled, it came out hard, in a long, roiling cough that shook his body from back to forth. Mituna and Latula communicated with each other completely silently, a bottle being passed from one to the other, the plastic top cracked open, pressed to Horuss's lips. "Drink it." Mituna said (neigh, ordered), and Horuss shivered between coughs at the cooling sensation of fresh water enjoying its way down into his insides, soothing that burn away, turning it into a dull, heavy sort of stinging, like when you stubbed your toe and the hurt went away but the throbbiness was left behind, a little bit of the poke and the sharp.

Then, it was Latula's turn, loading up the bong with weed and some kind of green powder that Horuss couldn't identify. "Hey, Horuss. Can I kiss you, dude?"

Horuss nodded slowly, still recovering from his coughing fit. Latula took the bong into her lap and pulled what Horuss would later learn to identify as an "expert rip" off of it, drawing a, frankly, irresponsible amount of smoke into her mouth. She leaned forward, one hand holding Horuss's stubbly chin (her hand was so soft), his mouth hanging open expectantly. When she exhaled, her lips just barely ghosting against his, breathing her dragonfire down into his throat only to let it leak back out of his open mouth, Horuss felt some kind of divinity growing within his chest. It leaked and pooled out of their mouths, not nearly as much of a kiss as Horuss had expected, but still, some kind of kiss nonetheless.

Then, Mituna did the same thing. The bong was passed over Horuss's lap, the burn initiated, and as smoke gathered, Mituna spoke quickly. "Yeah, but can  _I_ kiss you, nerd?" Horuss nodded, a little faster this time. Some of the smoke escaped Mituna's grin, streaming through his teeth. "Goodie.", he whispered, and leaned in to kiss, pressing against Horuss a little more firmly, a little more aggressively. Latula was soft in a tender way, but Mituna was soft in the way that an ornery sheep was soft - it still had wool, but it also wanted to headbutt you. Horuss whimpered into Mituna's shotgunning, letting Latula's hands fold into his. When Mituna finally pulled away, Horuss found the one-hitter back between his fingers, and this time, Latula was the one to light it for him, after letting him get another drink of water.

So it went, for the next hour or so. As Horuss drank smoke and imbibed the cooling bottled water from some glacier in who-cares-where, his perception of time at first fuzzed, and then began to turn into more of a blur, or a smear, against the windowpane that was his perception. His mouth felt dry and funny, and when he spoke, he had begun to laugh at his own words, how they came out distorted, the way his limbs were all loose and tangled with each other. Inhibitions relaxed. He was chuckling and cracking jokes and even using words with one or two syllables on occasion, while Mituna and Latula toked for themselves, but usually shared.

By the time the Nintendo 64 came out, they had become a tangle of limbs on the couch.

Despite his protests, and Mituna's rapid, slurred assumptions that someone with an engineering degree just  _had_ to enjoy video games, Horuss's interest before today was merely academic. People liked video games, so sometimes he tried them out, and that was about the extent of his interaction with the process. But here he was, handed an ungainly controller and invited along to play a game called "Super Smash Brothers" - perhaps that was an ancestor to the more modern games in the series that he had heard about, and occasionally tried his hands at during larger social gatherings? Doubtlessly so. Still, such thoughts as "Maybe Super Smash Brothers is the game that Super Smash Brothers for Wii U is descended from" should've been obvious to someone like Horuss, which really gave him a good idea of where his head was at in the haze of his high.

By the time he snapped out of his thought loop, he realized that he had been staring at the character selection screen while Mituna babbled something or other in his ear. Horuss let out a little yelp as Latula, who he just noticed was missing, pulled out the bottom from underneath the couch, flattening it out into a bed, causing Horuss to fall backward onto the cushion. Yet again, he was forced to look upwards at the ceiling-colored sky, watching a looming face overhead, Mituna's scraggly grin worn across his vision like a crescent moon. Horuss was jelly, only able to move most of his body when Latula and Mituna both joined forces to scoop him up and prop him up on some pillows like they were preparing a mannequin for a movie filming. "Man, you really haven't smoked before. Like a little fucking floppy jellyfish."

They played video games, as it were. Horuss tried out all the characters in turn, soundly thrashed each and every time, usually by Mituna, but sometimes by Latula. He only put up much of a fight when he switched to one "Captain Falcon" - the sense of timing required seemed to be something that he could easily get a hang of, at least in this hyperrelaxed state where nothing existed except for his hands and the TV screen and occasionally the hands of others touching him, holding his legs, wrapped around his shoulders, grabbing his arms, and at some point he realized he was staring at the character select screen, and had been for what was either 1 minute, fifteen minutes, or an hour (it was closer to five, in reality).

"You good, dude?" Latula asked, turning herself sideways so she could better face Horuss and not the television. Horuss was very good - his body felt looser than it had been in veritable aeons, his heart was full, and even a win-loss record of about 1-29 couldn't deter this decent feeling inside of his chest. He just so happened to be having this sort of semi-epiphany while almost drooling, his mouth hanging agape, eyes locked forward until Latula's face suddenly began existing inside of his peripheral vision once more.

"I... am good." Horuss said, through a mouth full of cotton and marbles, trying to keep his jaw clenched to avoid spilling said materials out over his chest, like there was something in there to spill other than words. His body felt indistinct at the edges, like he was losing track of where he was and where the bed was and where Mituna's hands were (they were on his shoulders, kneading the pressure out of them, pressure he didn't even feel in this ascended state) and where Latula's hands were (they were on her knees while she knelt aside from him but she was close enough that he could feel her knuckles anyway against his thigh). It was a mixture of everything and nothing in equal amounts. His brain was encapsulated, and his body was open to the world's input. "Well. I am well, I mean. I do not... wish to make moralistic judgments on my-"

Mituna shut him up with a kiss. Unlike before, this one wasn't as rough or aggressive, although it was still both of those things, but just barely. This felt like it was more natural and relaxed, as opposed to his previous show of force, presumably intended to display to Horuss a little bit of perceivable dominance. Now, the force was recognizable as just how Mituna kissed. When he pulled away, his lips were immediately replaced by Latula's, and Horuss found his hands beginning to wander away from the controller and into Latula's lap. Latula pulled away to take a breath, and Mituna replaced her just as quickly, the duo confounding Horuss with their lips until Horuss became unable to distinguish which was which.

He knew that one of them had narrow but soft lips, glazed in a thin layer of chapstick and pushed tenderly forward, while the other had plump, firm lips that were like a nice pillow to prop your neck upon, the kind of pillow made for propping rather than for sinking into. But even with his eyes open (and they weren't, most of the time), he was having trouble picking them apart. His goggles lay discarded on the table, but they weren't prescription, and Horuss, in fact, had perfect eyesight. The issue was more that he was beginning to lose time a little bit, flitting in and out of wakefulness and something between it and sleep.

One of them was Latula.

One of them was Mituna.

He was Horuss.

His hands found purchase on someone's hip, and someone's hand reached down between his legs. He heard Latula's voice right next to his ear, so logically, the person he was kissing must've been Mituna, but the noises were all blurred and dragged like he was listening to afterimages of motion, because when he opened his eyes all he could see was teal in his vision, and felt the soft bite of mop-haired gamer across his shoulder. "Is this okay, Horuss?" Latula whispered, and just being asked had already begun to get him started. Latula's voice was a caring cradle to hold him, and Mituna's mouth, traveling up his neck and to his ear, was a prickly little pleasant sting, even when whispered.

"If you don't like it, tell us." Mituna somehow said without even a lick of profanity. "We'll shut that shit down." There it goes.

"Please continue." Horuss hissed, as politely as one could hiss, falling forward into Latula's arms. She held him against her shoulder and kissed his forehead and ran her hands up and down his arms and he felt like he was melting, simply melting along into her to the point where the distinguishing point between Horuss and Latula had become simply that of nomenclature. Her fingers felt like fuzzed fire even with the daintiest of touches, while Mituna's more exploratory hands grabbed and groped, demanding attention and reaction. In a commoner's parlance, one could say that Horuss had indeed popped a boner, but you'd never hear him say it like that out loud, even as Mituna proceeded to do just that.

"Look, Tula, dude's totally popped a boner!" Mituna playfully teased between chuckles. Horuss wasn't sure what his own orientation in physical space was at the moment - things like proprioception seemed to have been dissolved in the wind - was he lying down? Sitting up? He could see, but his brain was only mostly registering, and when he blinked, seconds passed, turning the smooth motion of his two friends into something more akin to a slideshow.

A head wound its way between his legs, and Horuss didn't put up a speck of resistance as his pants were pulled off of him, socks along with them (when had he taken off his shoes?), leaving him in cutely horse-patterned boxers while someone pushed themselves up against him. A face rubbing against his groin, while someone else climbed up onto his hips, rolling down against him, getting rid of his shirt. Horuss had never been dissatisfied with the way he looked, but now, he felt intensely self-conscious. Needy for their approval of his once-rigid body melted through psychoactive smog into a loose pile of skin and muscle and bone.

Latula's playful clicks and murmurs were enough of an approval that a thrill ran up his spine, causing him to arch up, pressing himself up against whoever was between his legs (that had to have been Mituna, right?). Whoever was on his chest climbed up further, further, until their boxer-clad pelvis had pressed up against Horuss's mouth, presenting him with a somewhat unfamiliar sensation. It wasn't like Horuss was unaware of vaginas, but suffice to say, his personal interaction with the subject in question was... Minimal. The person on top of him shimmied out of their boxers, showing off a damp fold-of-folds, bright pink, shimmery with moisture, coiled around with a well-maintained bush of hair. A hand, comforting fingers, ran through Horuss's hair, pulling his ponytail apart, while they lowered themselves down.

Horuss stood ramrod still while his boxers were toyed with, eventually freeing his length from betwixt its cloth prison, sticking it out right from the cage, between cell bars, and someone's mouth lowered down onto him. Again, a cascade of unfamiliar sensations, given that he was more used to being the performer rather than the audience with these kind of ministrations, but he was certainly enjoying it. The hands coiled in his hair pulled just a bit, and Horuss understood, sticking his tongue out to lap at the unfamiliar, somewhat acrid-tasting slit in front of him.

It wasn't unpleasant, just strange.

Really, that was a good way to sum up the night.

Someone was moaning above him but his ears were squished by a helpful muffler made of thighs, preventing him from making out any finer details. He was sure his face was getting messy with slick, but once anything left his lips it left his ability to really care about it. His intuition on this matter was, in fact, startlingly correct, in that his face had been quickly rendered a mess, and his twitching length had begun drooling out precum in semi-comparable amounts into the warm, cavernous expanse swallowing him. He hooked his arms around the legs that had captured his head, and tried to pull himself closer, only to be pushed back down by the grinding of incessant hips. A mashing of his partner's slit into his face, more humping than anything.

Horuss felt slightly used, but in a way far better than he had felt used earlier. Before, he was a tool, but for whoever was on top of his face right now, he was  _useful_. A surge of prideful, powerful emotions boiled up from his stomach into his face, causing him to blush, while he lashed his tongue out in an attempt to help them get off. A set of lips bobbed up and down on Horuss's dick, suction occasionally pulling him in, and he felt the need to buck, pushing his hips up with an arching thrust, his body rocking and shaking underneath them.

When whoever was riding his face finally came, clenching him tight, squeezing, yelping loud enough to probably bother neighbors, Horuss felt more useful than ever before, dizzy with satisfaction as his face was finally freed. At the same time, left unfinished, his blowjob ended, and he was assailed with lips from both angles, the shaggy-haired Mituna and the straight-haired Latula curled into his arms, neither one possessing clothing at this point. It turned out that Horuss, with his boxers still on, was the most dressed out of all of-

Nope, never mind.

They both reached down, Mituna's face curled into Horuss's chest, pressing soft, surprisingly tender kisses up and down Horuss's pecs and abs, while Latula, ever the taller, could reach from where she was fine, using the shirt that used to be on her to wipe Horuss's face clean and then pulling his hair to guide his lips into hers, sticking her tongue out to taste. They used their hands in trained, practiced tandem, one of them stroking Horuss's spit-covered shaft, the other one oh-so-gently caressing and groping his balls. Horuss felt a semi-familiar pang of tightness zip through from his feet to his thighs.

"A-ah, um, I'm going to-" He begun, trying not to make upstart noises that could ruin the experience, as if he could do so by moaning the wrong way, or something similarly silly. Latula interrupted him, her voice taking on a sultry tone that he hadn't expected to hear out of her in... Ever, in ever, really.

"Go ahead. Make a mess, we'll clean it up." She told him, ordered him, taking a hold of his earlobe in her teeth and giving it the slightest pull while Mituna latched onto one of Horuss's nipples and professed to it similar actions, causing Horuss to arc upwards, letting out a little wail, his feet rapidly curling inside and out, staving something off.

"Are you... Are you sure? I don't want to... Aah-... Become burdensome--" Horuss panted, unable to get a full word out without needing to either inhale or exhale sharply, his voice taking on some kind of warbling tone that he would've sworn up and down he'd never be able to make, except for the fact that it was like that, right now. Almost bouncing between falsetto and profundo, shaking on the edge of a bodily earthquake. 

"Horuss, baby, we're doing this for _you_." Latula told him, with that husky, low, inviting growl.

That was all Horuss needed.

His legs twitched up and pressed out and in and out and in as he started to cum, shooting two quick, long ropes across his chest. Whoever was jerking him off was doing an excellent job of it, squeezing out more cum with speed and precision, painting his body successively lower and lower as the velocity waned, until they were pulling white out onto their own fingers. Horuss could've looked down, or made a logical assumption based on who was doing it with their left or right hand and who was on his left or right side (even though that would've required paying attention to thumbs in the state he was in, which was out of the question), but, ultimately, it didn't matter who was doing that work. Mituna let out a hyperactive little chirping cheer, and Latula coated his brain with adulation, calling him good and saying she was proud and saying all these things that Horuss had never considered that he might have needed to hear, or at least, might have wanted to hear.

When he was this blissed out, letting his eyes drift shut while paper towels and wipes cleaned seed from his skin and spit from his shaft, sleep came easy. An ornery nerd on one side, a rad skater on the other, and a blanket pulled over them.

By the time the three of them had all fallen asleep, they had become a tangle of limbs on the futon.


End file.
